


Your Crappy Egos Fic

by QueerEvanHansen



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Cute, Cute Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Murder, Nightmares, poor eric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:54:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27371494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerEvanHansen/pseuds/QueerEvanHansen
Summary: Just some random oneshots about Mark and Jack's egosI'll try to add tags as I add chapters
Relationships: Jameson Jackson/Wilford Warfstache, Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel/Original Male Character(s), darkstache
Kudos: 16





	1. Bubblegum Bitch (Wilford Warfstache x M!Reader)

Scoping out the apartment, Noah gripped the knife in his pocket, prepared to go in for the kill. Once he was sure the girl had gone to bed, he slipped in through the unlocked living room window. She left it cracked at night to let in a breeze. Idiot. The apartment was fairly dismal, but in the moonlight he could make out a small couch adorned with a few throw pillows and a dark coffee table. Silently returning the window to its partially closed position, Noah quickly made his way around the corner only to stop dead in his tracks. The kitchen light was on. After having watched the small apartment for over two weeks, he knew enough to know that the young woman ensured all the lights were off before she went to bed. She always went to bed at 10:30, which meant she either forgot to turn off the light (unlikely), or he wasn't alone. He really wasn't hoping for the latter. 

Crouching down, Noah slowly made his way toward the kitchen hoping to draw as little attention to himself as possible. He slowly looked into the room only to find the woman's already bloody body laying on the floor. "Dammit" He muttered to himself, walking over to inspect the body. There was broken glass on the floor next to her, blood mixing with the water and making a pinkish hue. He didn't know when it had happened, but it was obvious that someone knew he was going to be here tonight and decided to beat him to it. But why? This person was good at what they did, that much was obvious. Only a couple of efficient stab wounds, but a couple more that were clearly just for 'fun'. Placed messily and in no particular pattern. Gently stepping around the corpse, Noah spotted a note laying on the ground next to the body. He picked up the small piece of paper, reading the curly pink pen. "Sorry for ruining your fun, Cupcake, but I couldn't help but notice you. Had to get your attention somehow. Signed Warfstache." What the fuck? Who is this guy? He'd never even heard of him before, that much was obvious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a couple of weeks since his 'run-in' with that Warfstache guy and Noah hoped to never see him again. Yet somehow he couldn't help but be slightly intrigued. Shaking the thoughts from his head, he watched from behind the trees as his target entered his home. Thank god this guy was rich, meaning he didn't have a neighbor for a good couple of miles. Watching as he entered his home and settled in for the evening, Noah swiftly made his way closer to the house. Waiting was the hardest part. Everything in him was just nagging to plunge his favorite silver knife into the man's chest. He didn't bother learning the victim's names, only faces and locations. He would pick random people from the crowd and make a game out of preparing for their unsuspecting doom.

From his position crouched under the window sill, Noah snapped his head up at the sound of a muffled scream. "Awe come on now, I would love to stay and chat but we can't let him find me just yet, now can we? That would just suck all of the fun out of our game."

There were a few more grunts and muffled screams as Noah made his way into the house. Then there was silence. He hurried toward the source of the sound, hoping to find this 'Warfstache' only to find the man dead and another note. This man was killed in the exact same fashion as the woman. Picking up the note, he read it aloud "I couldn't let you find me just yet, now could I, Sugar? That would be no fun. Signed Warfstache." Written in the same pink pen and swirling handwriting. "Dammit. I was so close to catching him." He cursed to himself, slipping back out of the house and not bothering to mess with his already ruined kill. This man would be the death of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Noah stood still in the closet, waiting patiently for his kill return. After his last two kills were ruined his resolve was nearly gone. Through the crack in the door, Noah could spot the small digital clock sitting on the nightstand. The bright red letters read 12:07. He had been waiting here for half an hour and his legs were quickly beginning to tire. The closet was small and cramped but his need to kill was worth any pain.

Finally after what felt like hours he heard the door quickly swing open, hitting the wall behind it with a small bang. Noah watched as a brunette girl fell into the bed, lazily pulling the blankets over her. She was home from a party her friend was throwing, making this kill an easy one. He was thankful that she hopefully wouldn't put up too much of a struggle, and soon she would be asleep. He was proven correct when her breaths evened out, indicating she was passed out.

He slowly slipped out of the closet, heart thrumming in his chest and blood rushing in his ears. Tightly gripping the silver blade in his palm, he was all too eager to finally take what he wanted without that fucking Wilford guy ruining everything. Noah slowly raised the knife in his hand, a sick grin on his face. "Awe come on, you're really going to get started without me, Darling? Now that's not very fair." The voice wasn't very loud, as to not wake the sleeping figure. He turned his head so quickly he was surprised it hadn't snapped. There, leaning against the white door frame, was a man with bright pink hair and a matching mustache. He was dressed in khakis and a yellow button down paired with a pink bowtie and suspenders.

"Who the fuck are you?" He seethed, gripping the blade even tighter, if that was even possible. "Can't you see I'm busy?" He turned to face the other man fully, standing taller.

"That's no way to greet a friend, don't you recognize me?" The man's face blossomed into a smile and he stood fully. Noah's face dawned with realization.

"You! You're the motherfucker who's been stealing all my kills. Leaving little notes and me without any blood on my hands." He tried to keep his voice low, venom and rage still seeping through every word.

"Ah, yes! You've finally caught me! Allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Wilford Warfstache!" The man took a step toward Noah who rolled his eyes, a glare sitting heavily on his face.

"Whatever, just stay the hell out of my way. I've got a job to do." Turning back toward the sleeping girl, he took a step closer, prepared to begin the task at hand. Wilford tutted behind him quietly.

"Aren't you even going to tell me your name, Doll? I think it would be rude not to." He asked, what resembled a small pout resting on his features. Noah sighed, hand dropping to his side in exasperation. Couldn't he just kill this girl already?

"Why do you keep interrupting? Besides, you probably already know my name. You somehow managed to track my kills, I'd be shocked if you didn't know who I am." He turned once more to face Wilford, anger subsiding slightly only to be replaced by annoyance and exasperation.

Wilford crossed his arms and smiled softly. It would almost look sweet if it weren't for the slightly crazed look resting just behind his coffee brown eyes. "Well of course, but it's more polite to ask."

Noah froze then in curiosity. How much did this man really know about him? "How much do you know?" His tone was less harsh and more inquisitive. Wilford's smile widened.

"Well, your name is Noah James Fainin, your parent's names are Margaret and Gregory Fainin. You had an older brother but he died when you were eleven. You're 28 years old and live in apartment number 32 on the corner of fourth and-" Wilford was cut off by Noah who quickly hushed him.

"Okay okay, I get it. You basically know everything there is to know. But how? And more importantly why?" The girl behind them was quickly forgotten, Noah opting to figure out the strange man standing before him instead. He had to admit despite his initial fury, the man wasn't exactly an eyesore.

"I would never reveal my secrets, but I couldn't help but notice you. Your work is something I greatly admire and I would like to get to know you. Might I assist you?" At the mention of his 'work' Noah remembered the sleeping form behind them.

"If you want to help me, fine, but I get to kill her." Wilford quietly clapped his hands, a giddy look on his face. Noah walked up to the sleeping girl, pulling the cloth from his pocket and tying it around her face to muffle her screams. He didn't want to risk getting caught, but at the worst Wilford gets framed, which Noah didn't think he would really mind. This caused her to stir and his next action was sure to wake her up. Not for very long though. He plunged his knife deep into her neck, slowly tearing it across. It cut through her skin effortlessly and blood poured from the wound. The only sounds in the room were choking as a wide grin found its way to Noah's face. He felt Wilford step closer and allowed him to make a few slow incisions across the girl's arms, red blossoming from the cuts. Wilford stepped aside once more, gesturing for Noah to retake his place next to the body. He began slicing away at her skin, relishing in the blood that stained the sheets and coated his hands.

Finally stepping away from the body, Noah was coated in blood from head to toe, finally having gotten what he needed. A nice, gruesome murder. By the time he was done the body was nearly unrecognizable. He had of course allowed Wilford to join in the fun as promised, and after the ordeal had decided that maybe he wasn't so bad. He had originally thought that Wilford was insane, which he was, but Noah was just as crazy.

Wilford grinned at him wildly and Noah returned it, walking across the room toward him. The two slipped out the window, leaving the mutilated body on the bed, the soft glow of the lamp being the only source of light in the room. Once they were off of the roof, the two quickly made their way back out into an alleyway. "So, where to?" Noah asked, unsure of what to do next.

"Well, I could always give you a ride, Pumpkin." Wilford smiled, extending a hand. Seeing as Noah had walked to the apartment, he gladly took it and the two headed off in the direction of what Noah supposed was Wilford's car.

Once inside, he tried not to get too much blood on the seat. He knew first hand that it wasn't fun to scrub off. Wilford slipped into the driver's seat, starting the engine before pulling out of the alleyway. Staring at the now drying red substance on his hands, Noah smiled. Maybe this Wilford guy wasn't so bad after all. He thought as he slowly began to doze off in his seat. All the action had him tired.

He awoke to movement and in his half asleep state could tell he was being carried. Remembering the night's events, he quickly figured out that Wilford was the one carrying him. Noah semi-consciously snuggled into the warmth before falling asleep again.

"Hey there, Peach. You've gotta get cleaned up before you can go to bed for the night." Noah slowly lifted his head, blinking a couple of times as he was set down before looking at his surroundings. He was in an unfamiliar place which he only assumed was Wilford's house. He nodded slowly, grabbing the towel that was handed to him. Wilford left the bathroom and Noah began to peel off the sticky clothing, putting it in a pile on the floor before stepping into the shower.

He stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, before grabbing his clothes and leaving the bathroom. He walked down the hallway in search of Wilford only to find him in the bedroom at the end of the hall. "Where can I put this? Also, do you have something I can wear? My clothes are obviously ruined." Wilford nodded, smiling softly before taking the blood stained clothes from him.

"I left some clothes on the guest bed, second door on the left. I'm going to put these in the wash." He said, gesturing to the stained clothes.

Noah walked into the guest room to find some pink boxers and a t-shirt laying on the end of the bed. Quickly putting on the clothes he headed back toward Wilford's room. "I'm gonna hit the hay, but thanks for letting me stay the night."  
Wilford looked up, smiling "it's no problem at all, Buttercup. I like having you around." For some reason that brought a soft smile to Noah's face. As he headed back to the guest room he found himself looking forward to spending more time with Wilford.


	2. Check Up (Schneep & Dr.Iplier)

Schneep walked into his office, picking up the clipboard that lay on the table next to him. He watched as Anti sat disgruntledly on the crinkly paper of the exam table. Slightly amused by the look on Anti’s face, he walked over and began to ask a few mandatory questions. While jotting a few things down on his paper, Henrik heard the door open slowly. He sighed. “Dr.Iplier vat do you vant? I’m in ze middle of a check up.” As if on cue Anti proceeded to cough. 

Dr.Iplier simply grinned. “I wanted to help! I am a doctor after all!” He happily plopped down into the rolling chair next to the other doctor, crossing his arms. The German sighed once more.

“Fine, just don’t get in ze vey.” Dr. Iplier quietly cheered as Schneep looked down at his clipboard once more. Anti sighed in annoyance. Hopefully this will be over soon.

For the most part Dr. Iplier stayed quiet, only butting in every now and then when he felt necessary. It almost made the German doctor smile. Every so often Edward would lean in to read something off of the clipboard, but he mostly stayed out of the way, watching as Schneep examined Anti.

“It would appear you just have ze common flu. Some rest should do you fine.” Anti rolled his eyes, a groan leaving his lips as Dr.Schneeplestein guided him out, a pack of tissues in hand. Turning back to the other man in the room, Schneep raised an eyebrow. In his hand, Dr.Iplier held the retractors he had found on the counter. He held them up, an inquisitive look on his face. 

“What’s this?” His voice held a lilt of embarrassment as he gestured to the object in his hand.

Schneep had to fight the smile creeping up his face. “Those? Zey are retractors. Zey are used to keep ze things out of ze vey.” Edward listened intently, turning the retractors in his hands. The German doctor walked over to the other man, a slight bit of confusion in his tone. “Didn’t you go to medical school? How did you not know zat?” Dr.Iplier’s face fell slightly. He shifted in his chair, looking down at his lap. Schneep rolled his eyes slightly. They all had guessed he never went. This just confirmed their suspicions.

“I did, I swear.” The other man scoffed slightly, causing Iplier to quickly look up. “I did! Really, I did.” He stated defensively, to which the other man raised an eyebrow. “It’s just that it was nothing but notes and questioning.” He looked down once more. “Everything seemed to go in one ear and out the other.” Edward seemed genuinely disheartened by the confession, causing Schneep to feel a slight pang of guilt for having made fun of him. “I mean, I tried my best but I was always too afraid to speak up, too afraid of sticking out as the idiot.” He shrugged sadly. “I guess I ended up being the idiot anyway. I got kicked out.” The German doctor frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“You’re not ein dummkopf. Vat if I teach you?” The other man looked hesitant for a moment before nodding slowly. Schneep smiled.

The rest of the day continued as such, with Schneep teaching Edward basic things like the tools of the trade and proper surgery prep techniques. Dr.Iplier threw in the occasional joke, and after much persuasion from the other man, began asking questions of his own. Perhaps Dr.Schneeplestein had misjudged him. Maybe all he needed was a little bit of help and a friend.


	3. This Isn't The End (Chase Brody)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I totally suggest watching the animatic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BeHbdhkCS6A

“Hey Dad, it’s nice to see you again. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? Well, I’m fourteen now. It’s crazy to think. Where did all the time go?” Quinn placed down the white carnation in her hand, a soft smile resting on her face. “Marvin has been teaching me how to do magic recently, and I’ve been getting really good at sign language thanks to JJ! I hope you’re doing okay. Mom has been getting better, we all have.” She looked up at the slowly fading headstone, a tear threatening to escape. “I wish you could’ve seen it, Mom was dancing in the living room. She looked free, happy” she smiled at the memory “And then I walked in and she stopped…” The smile slowly dropped from her face. “She says that I look like you. Sometimes she can’t even look at me because of it. I wish I had more memories of you. I wish I could remember the way your smile looked.” Quinn allowed a few small tears to make their way down her face. “I remember having a Nerf war in the front room and mom getting upset at us running through the house.” She let out a watery chuckle. “Or the time you taught me how to ride a bike. I was so scared that you would let go, but you never did.” She smiled “I remember…” Her face fell “I remember the night you left… You left and never came back…” She could feel the tears rolling down her face. “Why? Was it worth it?” Sobs wracked her body, arms warped around her middle as she leaned, hunched over in the grass. She tensed, feeling a hand on her shoulder. 

“It’s okay, lass.” Upon hearing the voice she stood, throwing herself into Marvin’s embrace and holding him tight. 

“I miss him so much.” Marvin held her tighter. She felt safe in his arms, safe from anything bad the world could throw at her. 

“We all do…” She buried her head in his chest. He lifted a hand up to pet back her long, brown hair, the two rocking back and forth in silence. “But one day we will learn to heal.”

Once her sobs had died down, the two walked back to Marvin’s car. “How did you find me?” Quinn asked out of curiosity.

“The day. You come here every year. I didn’t want you to be alone.” She smiled sadly at that, blue eyes glistening in the sunlight.

“Honestly, I didn’t want to be alone.” She leaned her head against the window as Marvin pulled out of the drive.

The car ride was mostly silent, each lost in their own thoughts, until Quinn spoke up. “What was he like?” The weight on her heart was heavy.

“Your dad was funny, kind. He got along with everyone he met. He came off as kind of an asshole sometimes, but he was a good person.” She smiled at the thought. “The others could probably tell you some pretty good stories.” They pulled up to the house, getting out and walking up to the front door. The group always got together on the day. It was better for everyone to not be alone. Quinn smiled sadly, her mother never showed up. Not that she didn’t care, she just didn’t care enough to come over. The pair walked into the house, seeing everyone sitting on the couch, trying to decide on a movie. Well, almost everyone. Quinn didn’t know where Schneep had gone off to. She took a seat on the couch next to Anti while Marvin walked in the direction of the kitchen. The others looked at her, smiling in a bittersweet way. 

They sat in silence for a few moments before Schneep and Marvin walked in, carrying hot cocoa. Everyone was cuddled up in their own blanket and all was calm. “Hey guys, do any of you have any stories about Dad?” There was a moment of silence before Jackie spoke up, smiling.

“There was the time that he dumped a bucket of ice water on Anti while he was brooding in the backyard.” He laughed lightly.

“Yeah, he shrieked like a little girl.” Everyone chuckled slightly at that while Anti pouted.

“I did not!” He defended. The others simply smiled. 

That’s how they spent the next hour talking, laughing, and sipping hot chocolate. Digging up old memories and making a couple new ones.

“And then he pushed me into the pool so I dragged him in with me! He was soaked!” Everyone was laughing and smiling, basking in a moment of happiness.

“Did we ever decide on a movie?” Quinn questioned. JJ nodded, holding up the case. Marvin stood from his seat next to her, putting it into the player before snuggling back into his blanket once more.

After the movie was over Quinn stood in the kitchen, rinsing her mug. Setting it next to the sink, she heard someone enter the room. “He would’ve been proud of you, ya know. To see the kind of wonderful person you’ve become. I’d like to think he knows.” She paused, a small smile tugging at her lips. She turned to see Marvin standing in the doorway and gave a slight nod. A feeling of comfort settled in her chest as she thought that maybe he was watching her. Maybe he did know.


	4. Carry You (Dapperstache)

He couldn’t seem to sit still, eyes frantically searching through the inky blackness of his room. There, Jameson sat, legs tucked as close to his body as he could make them, back resting against the headboard. He wanted to be anything but alone right now, yet he was frozen in place. Shadows danced around him no matter how hard he tried to ignore him. They taunted him, cursing his mere existence. He had tried to fall asleep but each time he closed his eyes they were there. He heard their whispers in his head and watched as they would slink around his room. Dashing from corner to corner, away from the moonlight seeping in through his partially closed curtains. His body shook with fear as he felt a hand on his shoulder. The whispers grew harsher as his silent sobs were lost to the void of ebony surrounding him. He felt pathetic, sitting in his room and crying over shadows, unable to call for help. Mustering up as much courage as he could, Jameson furiously wiped away the tears on his face and moved toward the edge of the bed. With one final push he forced his shivering frame toward the shared bathroom. 

Once inside, Jameson attempted to close the door behind him as quietly as possible, as to not wake anyone. He could deal with this on his own. Hands gripping the counter top until his knuckles were white, he stared at his reflection. Despite no longer being plagued by shadows, the voices remained. Reminding him of how much of a disease he was. How much of a burden. A fresh set of tears streamed down his face as he hung his head, eyes shut tight. He felt as though he was going mad, nothing made sense anymore. He felt as though no one truly heard him. At first people actually made an attempt to communicate with him, but over time they just stopped caring. They stopped caring about him. He didn’t ask to be this way. He couldn’t help the way he was. Jameson slammed his fist down on the counter out of frustration. There was a tightness in his chest as sobs continued to wrack his body. He was just so angry and so tired. He was tired of dealing with everything. Tired of holding up his own feeble body. Tired of being. Glaring at his reflection he let out a rage filled yell at the man who looked back at him. He was chipper and happy. Always full of energy and able to light a room. He watched as his reflection crumbled into one of sorrow and despair, face stained with tears. The person before him was someone he hated. In a fit of anger he punched the mirror, causing it to shatter. His knuckles bled and his hand throbbed but he couldn’t feel it. All of his emotions seemed to drain out of him and the world seemed to slow as the whispers were finally silenced. 

For a moment all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears before there was a knock on the door. It was frantic and he could barely hear a voice on the other side. Thankfully he had locked the door, but now he almost regretted it. He felt nothing but numb through his whole body, the only sounds being a ringing in his ears and the muffled voice from the other side of the door. Slowly, Jamseon stepped away from the shards of mirror and toward the door. Gingerly, he lifted a shaky hand, grabbing the cold metal lock and twisting it before stepping away. He looked down at the shards that littered the floor, reflecting the light and looking almost like stars. He nearly smiled at the thought. Wilford quickly opened the now unlocked door, rushing into the room only to slow at the sight before him. Jameson, standing in the middle of the small bathroom with his head hung low, surrounded by broken glass, a small pool of blood dripping down next to him. Immediately Wilford was next to the distraught man, pulling him into a hug. Arms wrapped tightly around his shaking frame, the green haired boy began to cry. That simply caused Will to hold him tighter, bringing one hand up to caress the smaller boy’s hair and gently shushing him. The two stood there for a few minutes, rocking back and forth, before Jameson’s crying had calmed. The pink haired man separated them, placing a hand on the other boy’s shoulder and moving the other to cup his face. Jameson sniffled and the other man used his thumb to wipe a tear from his eye. “There, that’s much better.” His smile was poignant. “What happened, Darlin’?” Jameson refused to look him in the eye, instead glaring down at Wilford’s feet and shaking his head. He didn’t want to feel so weak and helpless. “Come on, let's at least get you cleaned up.” The taller man smiled softly in his direction, grabbing a hand towel and brushing shards off of the counter top. He patted the surface, gesturing for Jameson to sit down, which he did. The dapper ego watched in silence as Wilford grabbed the med kit from under the sink. “Now, this is probably going to hurt so I’m sorry.” The pink haired man gently grabbed Jameson’s injured hand in his own, taking tweezers in the other. He slowly began pulling out the shards, causing the other man to wince. 

Once his hand was properly bandaged, the green haired man attempted to move his hand, only to wince in pain. “Yeah, I don’t think you’ll be signing with that hand for a while.” Wilford gave him a bittersweet smile before moving to grab a broom. He was back a few minutes later to see Jameson in the exact same spot, seeming to have not moved a muscle. He appeared to be lost in thought. Silently, the taller man began to sweep the floor, using a rag to brush the shards from the counter onto the floor. When the floor was clear he yawned, turning to face the troubled boy. “You should probably get to bed.” He noted, gesturing toward the man’s bedroom. Thoughts of the night’s events flashed through Jameson’s mind, causing him to shake his head frantically. Instead he pointed toward Wilford’s room, not bothering to sign to him. Regardless, the pink haired man seemed to understand. Taking his good hand, he led the two of them into his bedroom, making sure to turn off the light behind them. In the dark, Jameson grasped Will’s hand tighter, walking toward the bed. 

The two were settling into bed when Wilford spoke. “What happened? I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.” A small lamp lit the room. Jameson hesitated for a moment before nodding. He began to slowly sign before Wilford paused him, reaching for something in his bedside table. He emerged with a small notebook and pen, which the other man took gratefully. Steadily he began to explain the events from the night. The shadows and voices, explaining that he felt it might be Dark's doing. The pink haired man nodded along, staying mostly silent through the explanation, only speaking after Jameson's last comment.  
"Is there something wrong with me?" In that moment the person in front of him looked less like a man and more like a lost child. The shimmer in his eyes showed complete uncertainty and despair which only caused Wilford's heart to crack further. The sight before him was one he hoped to never see again.  
However, he was quick to dispel the thought. "No, no! Of course not! What would make you think such a thing? Yes we all have flaws, but they're what make us who we are." Jameson seemed to consider the answer for a moment before nodding lightly, still not completely sure if he believed that.  
"Please don't tell Dark! I'm not sure what would happen, but I don't want to find out." There was a grim look on his features and fear glazed his eyes. Wilford was silent for a moment. Jameson's face now held a more pleading look.  
After a slight internal battle, Wilford reluctantly agreed. "We should really get some sleep now." He glanced at the clock to see it was half past two. With that, the two laid down and the lamp was turned off, coating the room in darkness once again.  
By the time Wilford awoke the sun was peeking through the curtains. He turned to see Jameson still fast asleep next to him, and smiled. After debating waking him up, he decided that the man needed the sleep and rose from the bed in search of breakfast.  
Once he was down in the kitchen the other egos were already eating or preparing food. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Marvin grabbed his attention. "Hey, do you know what's up with JJ? He's usually down early." Lowering the mug from his lips, he spoke.  
"Yeah, just catching up on some sleep. He should be up soon." The magician nodded, turning back to the pancakes he was trying not to burn.  
Once his coffee was finished, Wilford headed back upstairs. Stepping quietly into his room so as to not disturb the man snuggled into the covers, he grabbed his usual attire before choosing to change in the bathroom. After he got dressed, bowtie and all, the pink haired man teleported to the person he most wanted to see: Dark.  
He was standing in front of a dark oak desk in what seemed to be a void. There was nothing but blackness all around them. “Darkiplier.” The man sneered, prepared to put up a fight.  
“Wilford.” his voice held a smirking lilt but his face was stone cold. “I believe we both know why you’re here so let’s get this over with.” Dark waved a hand dismissively which only caused irritation to the man in front of him.  
“Why him? I could understand Marvin or even Schneep, but Jameson? You can’t even use him.” There was clear confusion in his tone. If there was a bigger plan, he couldn’t see it. Jamie didn’t deserve this.  
“I don’t understand what you’re saying. I was simply having a bit of fun.” Dark cracked a sly smile, resting both elbows on the desk.   
Wilford began to pace back and forth, thinking for a moment. “I woke up last night to find him shaking and crying in the bathroom. I wouldn’t quite count that as fun.”  
Dark held an air of jovial confidence as he spoke. “Come on now, I would have expected you of all people to find it entertaining.” Wilford froze, gritting his teeth.  
“I’m not that person anymore.” His eyes were dark as he glared holes through the man before him.  
“Oh really? Is that so? I think your body count would say otherwise.” His words were venom, hitting every weak spot. “What happened William? What happened to being partners in crime?” That name hadn’t been spoken in years. He was kinniving, but he knew the pink haired man wouldn’t give in any time soon.  
“Dark, drop it.” His tone was one of warning and malice. “This isn’t about me. This is about Jameson.” Dark simply chuckled lowly, leaning back in his chair.  
“If you truly care about what happened last night, I was only having fun.” His tone was serious. “I simply intended to scare him. The rest was all him.” Wilford’s stance was firm, but his face held curiosity. “You know that I can’t manipulate thoughts, only shadows.” Dark sighed.  
“How do I know that you and Anti didn’t work together?” He accused, crossing his arms.  
Dark brought a hand to his head, rubbing his temples with an exasperated sigh. “Like you said, he’s useless to me. Why would I go to more effort to get that glitch to help me if it wasn’t important?” Wilford opened his mouth before pausing.   
“Fine. But just leave him alone, okay? He doesn’t deserve it.” He attempted to negotiate. Dark smirked.  
“Oh, this is only the beginning. The beginning of something you’ll never see coming.” Dark chuckled, a malevolent smirk on his face. Wilford moved to protest and question the man when he disappeared.  
“Get back here you bastard!” He fumed, yelling into the void around him. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he needed to warn the others.


	5. Say You Won't Let Go (Darkstache)

The mansion ran like a well oiled machine. A place for everything and everything in its place. Everyone had a job to do and each person did well at their specific task. Dark had a sense of pride in knowing that he was the reason that everything ran smoothly. That was, with the help of his assistant Google, and right hand man Wilford. 

Said right hand man had gone disturbingly quiet over the last couple of days, leading to confusion and curiosity throughout the manor. That was, until Dark finally caved, walking up to the pristine white door of what used to be Wilford’s room. He knocked on the old wood gently, expecting a response. Yet, there was none to be heard. “Wil, Darling, are you alright?” Dark’s voice was low and filled with concern for his fiance. A tone which none of the other egos ever heard him use. There was still nothing but silence on the other side. “Please, just talk to me.” He wouldn’t say he was desperate, but Dark was at the very least bothered by the situation. Again, the air between them was dead, not a sound to be heard. His hand rested against the door, his face mere inches from it as he spoke. “I’m going to come in, okay?” He slowly twisted the cold knob, finding it unlocked. The dark haired man quickly slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. He faced the bed only to see Wilford’s back toward him, head downcast. Dark apprehensively approached the other, placing a calm hand on Wil’s shoulder. The moustached man pulled away slightly, looking up at Dark as he sat on the bed next to him.

“Tell me what happened.” Dark sat in a stunned silence for a moment. The question was so simple, yet the words held so much. A million answers causing the air to feel heavy. He replied cautiously, hoping Wil wasn’t implying what he thought.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Darling.” He wasn’t exactly lying, because Dark wasn’t completely sure if that was what Wilford wanted to know.

The pink man’s bloodshot eyes became more frantic at his words. “Dark, I need to know! Please!” His tone was pleading and the other man felt a pang of guilt toward his lover.

Wil, Angel, please calm down.” His voice was soft as he attempted to place a comforting hand on Wilford’s arm, only for it to be shaken off as the moustached man reached up to grasp his hair.

“No no no! I need to know! I can’t keep having these nightmares in the body of a person I can’t remember! Why can’t I remember?!” There were now tears pricking the corners of his eyes, face completely distraught.

Dark froze, not sure what to say. He sighed softly “Wil, he’s you. From before the incident.” Wilfords hand slowly fell to his lap in confusion. None of his nightmares were adding up. That couldn’t have been him. Why couldn’t he remember? “That man’s name was Colonel William J. Barnum.”

It felt as though a tidal wave had crashed over Wilford as the pieces began to fit together. All of the memories came flooding back to him. Mark, the war, hunting, Celine. Celine. How could he have possibly forgotten about Celine? He whispered her name under his breath, the word barely audible, but Dark caught it. “How is she? What happened to her?” The events of that night had yet to register in his fragile mind.

Dark’s breath caught in his throat. What could he even tell the man? That his wife had died? That part of her soul was inside of the dark entity himself? “She’s- Well she’s-” Dark sighed, rubbing a hand across his face “It’s kind of complicated.” 

Wilford’s face fell, fear taking over. “She didn’t die...did she?” Dark looked away, unsure if he should lie.

“Not exactly. As I said it’s complicated.” It felt wrong to lie to the man he loved. Wilford didn’t appear very relieved, but nonetheless relaxed slightly.

“What happened that night?” Wil hesitated in asking. Fearing both Dark’s reaction and his answer. 

“Well, it was cool October night when Mark invited us all to his mansion for a celebration. Those attending were Damien, William, Abe, and The District Attorney. He never did say why we were there, or even what we were celebrating. The evening was full of drinking, poker, and other festivities. By the time morning had come The DA was the first person to find the body.” Wilford paused at the word ‘body’. He knew he tended to be a bit trigger happy and if he and William were the same person then William may be as well. He shot Dark a questioning look to which Dark simply shrugged. “They never did find out who did it. Abe took up the case, searching for who had killed Mark. He chose The DA to be his new partner and the two went off on their own wild goose chase. Things about the house were beginning to seem..off. That’s when Celine showed up.” Wilford’s ears perked up at the sound of her name. “She told us that there was something wrong with the house. That we were dealing with a powerful curse.” Dark thought back to the night he came to be, shuddering slightly. “The others went off the question the groundskeeper while Damien stayed behind to watch Celine, she wasn’t fit to be left alone.” Wilford had calmed significantly, the thoughts in his head now beginning to make more sense. Dark took a deep breath before speaking again. “No one is sure what Celine did that night, but the groundskeeper locked Damien and Celine in the room whilst an argument broke out.” Chills went down Dark’s spine at the memory. “The Colonel and the DA found Abe’s office where he had been collecting evidence. He was furious that he’d been tracking their every move. William sormed upstairs with the DA tailing him, gun flailing as he angrily searched for the detective. Upstairs, there was an argument between the three and William shot the District Attorney. They then fell over the balcony, dead.” Wilford’s eyes widened and Dark nodded sadly. “In order to stop this thing, part of Damien, Celine, and the house’s souls were merged into the DA’s broken body.That’s where I came from.” Wilford was silent, stunned by the new revelation.

“You mean-?” Dark nodded, slowly unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a scar right over his heart. Wilford’s eyes welled up with tears. 

“It’s not your fault. You’re not that man anymore.” His voice was quiet. “I’m sorry for never telling you.” Wilford rested a hand on Dark’s leg as he slowly buttoned his shirt. “Will you be okay?” He was hesitant.

“Eventually, yes.” Dark nodded, regaining his composure. Slowly, he pulled Wilford into a hug, the two sitting in silence for a moment. Wil pulled away before speaking calmly. “I should probably continue with my duties. I mean, my pistol won’t clean itself.” His face held a bittersweet smile and Dark nodded. The two stood, slowly making their way out into the main living area. 

A few egos were sitting on the couches, working on various things. Illinois looked up upon hearing them enter, opening his mouth to speak when Dark shot him a look. The man quickly shut his mouth, choosing not to say anything. Quickly, they headed to their respective offices. Wilford sat at his desk in silence, processing the information he’d been given. His past was nearly as uncertain as his future, but for a man who was impossible to pin down, that was okay.


	6. My Shot (Wilford & Abe)

The Detective sat at the bar, a glass of whiskey in hand. After a long week this was exactly what he needed to unwind. Though he sat alone, he was content. That was until a brown haired man slipped into the seat next to his. “Good evening, Sir.” Abe was uneasy, the last time a stranger approached him the night ended in disaster, like a clown slipping on his own banana peel.

“And how could I help you?” He turned to face the man, taking in his appearance. He wore a yellow collared shirt with dark grey suspenders. On his face sat a bright pink curled moustache. He appeared to be quite peculiar, but not a threat.

“Now slow down there, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He put his hand out defensively. Abe nodded, a slight bit of suspicion still in his mind. “I just figured you looked lonely and could do with a good chat.” Now, Abe knew how things looked, but couldn’t decide if he should be offended at being called lonely. Deciding not to think too hard on it, the detective decided that maybe some company wouldn’t be too bad.

“Might I ask what I should call you?” The moustached man before him smiled slightly before replying.

“The name’s William Wingleheimer, but you can just call me Will.” Something about that name felt familiar but Abe decided to brush it off as Will attempted to take a sip of his martini.

After a moment of silence the detective spoke up. “Abe. My name is Abe.” Will’s eyes snapped up before returning to their neutral stance.  
_._._._._._._  
The night was going quite well, the two steadily warming up to each other when the topic of photography came up. Abe actually quite enjoyed discussing his work, though not in detail of course. Will, on the other hand, thought more fondly of his line of work, yet still keeping out most of the details.

“You always want to frame it perfectly, make sure it’s perfectly lined up.” Will nodded in agreement, adding his own two cents.

“Yeah, you don’t know if you’ll be able to get another shot.” Abe made a noise of agreement, thinking of all the information he’d collected over the years. 

“Before you do, though, you always need to look at your surroundings, making sure everything is in place.” William brought the glass to his lips, moustache keeping him for taking a sip of the beverage. He thought of the time he’d scoped out a dusty apartment. Not his highest grade work, but he still got paid.

“Yes, you don’t need anything getting in your way.” Abe thought back to the files he still had to sort through.   
_._._._._._._  
The rest of the evening continued that way. With stories and jovial laughs passing through the air between two perfect strangers. Neither was spending the evening alone, and for that both were thankful. Abe never saw the other man again after that night.


	7. Safe And Sound (Eric & Yancy)

_ The anxious boy carefully picked up a box from the stack, walking to its designated section so the items could be shelved. The box was slightly heavy and Eric was unsure as to what it contained. Watching the aisle numbers as he passed, he went to lift his foot only to find he couldn’t. Having tripped over his foot, the box was sent flying forward as Eric crashed to the ground in an unceremonious heap. He heard what sounded like shattering glass from inside the box and cringed. There was no way he was getting away with that. He scrambled to his feet, hurriedly pushing his glasses back onto his face just in time to see his dad round the corner. Fiddling with the yellow cloth in his hands, Eric’s dad stormed up to him. “What in the hell did you do?” Derek fumed, gesturing to the contents strewn about the floor.  _

_ “I-I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean to.” Eric shrunk back, fear running through his panicked mind. He looked down as he felt a sharp sting across his cheek. _

_ “Boy, do you know how much money you just put me out of?” Derek stalked over to the boy who backed away slowly. Eric’s dad seethed, raising his hand toward the boy once more. Eric cowered in fear, feeling the sharp pain once again. “I gave you one fucking job and you can’t even do that right. What good are you?” A few small tears made their way down Eric’s face at the words. “Stop being so weak and quit your crying.” This only caused more tears to pour from the boy’s eyes, body trembling. Slowly, he slumped to the floor, due to his legs threatening to give out under him. Derek shook his head, angry and disappointed. His father continued to spit vile words, Eric simply sitting in near silence, his only sounds being quiet sobs. Suddenly, Derek yanked him up by his arm, causing the other boy to cry out in fear. A few more hits were delivered before the man spoke. “Get this mess cleaned up and get back to work.” Eric nodded shakily as his father walked away. He kneeled down, gently picking up the broken pieces of glass and trying not to cut himself before putting them back into the box.  _

Eric shot awake, hands instantly wrapping around himself in search of any form of comfort. A sheen of sweat coated his forehead as the events of his nightmare replayed in his head. He took a shaky breath, trying to calm himself down. Slowly he stood from his bed, heading out into the hallway. Despite the darkness of the hall, Eric was quick to find his destination. 

With a shaky hand he turned the knob, opening the door as quietly as possible. “Y-Yance?” He stepped into the room, eyes trained on the lump of covers on the bed. His voice was soft so it came as no surprise when the man didn’t stir. “Yancy?” Walking over to the side of the bed, Eric gently nudged Yancy. Said man groaned before slowly pulling the sheets down and sitting up slightly. 

“What’s up, Bud?” His voice was groggy and full of sleep, yet still full of a warmth that succeeded in comforting the trembling man significantly.

“I-It’s dumb but is it o-okay if I sleep here t-tonight?” Eric’s voice was hesitant but once the words left his mouth Yancy appeared much more awake. He quickly pulled the covers aside, gesturing for Eric to lie down next to him.

“Of course! Did ya have anotha nightmare of youse’s?” The boy slipped in next to the ex-convict, snuggling into the warmth of the bed. He shook his head softly before speaking.

“Y-yeah, but I d-don’t wanna talk ab-about it.” Yancy nodded in understanding, pulling the boy in for a gentle hug. Eric noticeably relaxed at the feeling of the other man’s arm around him. 

“That’s alright. As long as youse’s here with me, I ain’t gonna let nothin’ hurt youse.” Eric felt the tears dry on his face as he slowly drifted into unconsciousness. 

_._._._._._._

The next morning Eric woke up groggy, thankfully not having had any more nightmares that night. He slowly opened his eyes to see a fully clothed Yancy kneeling down next to him, smiling. “Mornin’, Doll. How’d ya sleep?” Eric simply nodded in reply, not completely processing Yancy’s words as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Propping himself up on his elbow, he glanced over at the clock, seeing that it was nearing half past nine. The other man chuckled warmly, ruffling Eric’s hair as he stood, stretching. “Bim saved you some food if youse wanna head downstairs.” The boy finally stood with a slight smile, Yancy stepping out of the way as the younger passed him. He crept down the stairs slowly, one arm gripping the banister. Memories of the previous night flooded his mind, though Eric tried his best to push them away. He didn’t need help. He was just fine. By the time he had gotten to the kitchen only a few egos remained, which Eric was perfectly okay with. The less people, the better. He kept his head down as he took the plate that Bim set in front of him and remained silent as he ate. The others gave him questioning looks, but he hardly noticed.

Once he had quietly shuffled back up to his room, he stepped inside only to spot Yancy sitting on his bed. “Youse wanna talk about what happened last night?” Eric hesitated, his first instinct was to say no. Though, when Yancy stood to meet his stance in the middle of his room, he couldn’t stop himself. He was pulled into a gentle, safe hug where he proceeded to simply cry. And Yancy just stood there, holding him calmly until his crying ceased, at which point the two sat down on Eric’s bed.

“It was about him.” His voice was soft and tired. Emotionally drained. Yancy nodded slowly. “It’s always about him. It’s like he never leaves.” There was frustration laced into his tone. “Despite being dead he never leaves me alone!” Yancy placed a hand on top of Eric’s, hoping to comfort him slightly.

“Those things he used to say to youse? They mean nothing. He’s got no control over youse anymore. Youse’s stronger than you think.” Eric rested his head on Yancy’s shoulder, just listening to him speak. His words slightly calmed Eric’s racing mind. The two sat there, bathing in the moment and the stillness of the air. And for once, all was calm.


	8. You Said You'd Grow Old With Me (Darkstache)

Dark stepped into the room slowly, hands shaking and heart pounding in his chest. His shoes made a soft clack against the cold linoleum tiles and he made his way to the side of the bed. Finally taking in the sight before him, Dark watched as his husband’s chest slowly rose and fell, releasing shallow breaths that were barely audible. The air was heavy as he took a seat, grasping Wilford’s chilly hand in his own. “Hey.” Wil’s voice was hoarse as he spoke, causing the other man to cringe slightly.

“Hi.” His voice was quiet, afraid of disturbing the still air around it. His eyes focused on their clasped hands, almost too scared to meet the other man’s eyes. “How are you feeling?” Dark forced a smile onto his face, though it looked more bittersweet than he had hoped.

“Same shit, different shovel.” Wilford laughed softly, though it quickly dissolved into a fit of coughs, causing Dark to reach for the water glass sitting next to the bed. Once all was quiet, he spoke again. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” His eyes were trained on his husband, who simply looked down, shaking his head despite the smile on his face. When he looked up, the mustached man held a smile. One that was so full of love it caused Dark to remember why he married him all over again. The two sat in silence, the weight of the situation causing the air to feel thick despite their joking around. Dark picked at a loose thread on his shirt as Wil stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. “I’m sorry for messing everything up.” Wilford spoke suddenly and Dark’s head snapped up, quick to shush him and quell his thoughts.

“Darling, you didn’t mess up anything.” He reached up both hands to grasp Wilford’s as he spoke, leaning toward the man. “Trust me when I say that none of this is your fault.” He reached up a hand to brush Wil’s hair back. Wilford simply sighed.

“I just want you to be happy.” Dark felt a tug at his heart.

“I’m always happy if I have you.” He smiled sadly.

And suddenly, in that moment, they were kids again. Stupid teenagers making dumb decisions without a care in the world. Drinking whatever they had stolen from their parent’s liquor cabinet and sneaking out to just see the city light up at night. Making out in the back of each other’s cars and pretending that they could hide the evidence. Back then the world was so bright and full of life, but then reality set in.

The reality of their life together sat heavily on Dark’s chest. An unavoidable inevitability. An undeniable fact. There were many ways to say that soon their lives would never be the same. At this point it was left down to a waiting game. It almost made Dark want to laugh. That everything hung in the balance of time. Something so fleeting and out of control. So unpredictable but at the same time easy to follow. The emotions in the air were palpable. Anger. Sadness. Grief. Fear. Pure, unbridled fear at the thought that one day he would wake up to an empty bed. Something he knew might happen one day, but never this soon. It was never supposed to be this soon. Dark felt a tear streak down his face at the thought.

“Love, what’s wrong?” Came Wil’s concerned voice from next to him. The darker man looked up at his lover, emotions finally spilling forward. He could only act strong for so long.

“I love you so much.” Dark sobbed, throwing his arms around the bed-ridden man. Wilford hugged him back as tightly as possible, only causing him to sob harder. Feeling Wil’s weak arms around him, one’s that used to make him feel so safe when he was scared and confused. But his lover just continued to hold him close, running a hand through his tangled hair and shushing him softly. The two simply stayed there, Dark sitting slightly to Wilford’s side, the pink man’s arms wrapped around his lover’s shaking frame. The room was fragile. As if any sudden noise or movement would cause everything to shatter.

As for the mustached man, he had accepted his fate. He knew there was no fighting the indisputable truth. Though he knew it would take his lover time to heal, he also knew that eventually things would be okay. That Dark would move on and find a new happiness. He was prepared. For Dark, there were a million thoughts running through his head. But instead, he simply chose to focus on the way that Wilford’s chest rose and fell, and that his heart was still beating. Said man was slowly petting his husband’s hair as silence continued to swirl throughout the room. The only noises where the soft ticking of a clock and the breath of the two.

“Talk to me.” Dark spoke softly, his voice slightly hoarse from crying. Wilford smiled, huffing out a small laugh.

“What about?” His voice held a slightly amused tone. Dark shrugged.

“Tell me your favorite memories.” Wil nodded, thinking back on the first time they met.

It was in secondary school. They were both twelve at the time (Though Wilford was older by a few months). The two had shared a History class, as well as a shared hatred for said class. They had become fast friends, though Dark was slightly hesitant at first (Seeing as Wilford was very loud and boisterous). The pink haired man spotted the darker man, instantly gravitating toward him. Though it wouldn’t be until a week later that he offered to share their lunch hour.

Another fond memory he held was of their first apartment. 

The two stood in the cold, hands clasped as Dark slowly slid the key into the lock, turning it slowly and pushing open the door. They both held their breath. This was it. It was just the two of them. Wilford smiled widely as he stepped inside, Dark following shortly after. Turning to face him, he pulled the darker man in for a loving kiss. This was home. No more judgement. No more arguments. Just the two of them there in their little apartment. 

Their first Christmas together was one to remember. From baking cookies that set off the smoke alarm, to just cuddling on the couch in front of a small space heater. It might not have been perfect, but it was wonderful. They were both twenty three at the time and with Wil bouncing between news stations they did their best to stay afloat. Despite everything (and Dark’s insistence that he didn’t), the pink man had gotten him a gift. It was nothing spectacular, a black beaded bracelet with a single rose quartz bead, but Dark cherished it. It might not have been much, but it was special. 

One memory that always made him smile was the night they snuck out together. It wasn’t like they had planned anything, but they were both bored and Wil may or may not have been throwing rocks at Dark’s window at ungodly hours of the morning. After a lot of convincing on his end, his boyfriend had finally given in and agreed, the two slowly making their way down the street in search of nothing in particular. That night they had done a lot of things. Drank, made out, and just talked. Talked about love, life, and the stars above their heads. What life would be like when they got old, and about grandchildren running around their feet.

Wilford told his husband every story he could possibly think of, just to see him smile at the memories. He never knew how much life he had truly lived. With the most amazing man right by his side the whole way. The two stayed that way long into the night, Dark’s head laying against his husband’s chest. And Wilford continued to tell stories until Dark finally fell asleep, then he, too, fell asleep.

The only sounds left in the room were the ticking of the clock, and the steady breathing of two people unsure of the future ahead of them.


	9. Memento Mori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13/11/19-13/11/20

Lilith had been young at the time, but she still remembered the faint flashes of black and white somewhere in her distant memory. She was older now, though. She had tried asking her father about them before, but his answer was the same as always “ _ You’ll learn when you’re older _ ”. Whenever she would ask her papa he would always tell her that she was too young. Now, sitting at the age of sixteen, she yearned more than ever to know. So, she brought it up to the two of them at breakfast that morning. “I want to know about why those flashes still show up in my old memories.” The statement broke the silence. The second that the words had left her mouth Dark looked up from his book, glancing over to Wilford and proceeding to have an unspoken conversation. She never understood how the two could have entire conversations and come to reasonable conclusions just through eye contact. Maybe she would have someone like that one day. “Please? It just doesn’t make sense. You said I could know when I was older. I’m sixteen now. I don’t have much older to get.” Okay, the last part was debatable and even Lilith knew that, but she swore her curiosity would kill her.

The two looked away from each other after that. “I’ll allow you to handle this.” came Wilford’s unusually soft voice from her left. Dark simply gave him a singular nod before slowly looking back to his book. She understood it was early morning, but if papa was being quiet it couldn’t be very good. Dark took a sip of his coffee before speaking. 

“We will go after breakfast. It’s only a short walk from the house.” They had to go somewhere for this? The entire situation was confusing. She finished her breakfast quickly after that, heading upstairs to grab her phone while her father finished his coffee. Lilith knew enough to understand that he was not a man that was to be rushed. Heading back downstairs, she sat back down at the table. She stared out the window behind Dark at the slightly damp morning. The sky was clouded over and there was a nice breeze. In other words, it was a perfect day. Slowly, her father rose and Lilith took it as a cue to follow, watching as he rinsed his cup and placed it down next to the sink. He walked silently to the door, grabbing his jacked from a hook next to the front door. She began to follow him, only for Dark to pass her and head toward the back door instead. Odd. Where could they possibly be going? Watching as Wilford shot Dark a look, having another short conversation, she looked back out through the window. Finally, Dark opened the door, allowing Lilith to step through before him, closing the door behind himself as he too stepped outside.

"Where are we going?" She finally broke the thick silence as Dark began to walk ahead of her. She made sure to keep up with his long strides. Thankfully, his walk appeared to be slightly more casual. Not that Dark really did 'casual'.

"You'll see." Well that was helpful. The two walked out to the edge of their yard where the tree line began. Lilith had been told to never stray further, so she was even more confused when Dark continued to walk into the small area of woods. Nevertheless she followed along behind him, making sure not to lose sight of her father as they trailed further into the forest. Around them Lilith could hear the wind rustling the leaves above her head and she pulled her jacket a bit tighter around her frame. It was only once they came to a small clearing that Dark paused. He cleared his throat, taking a couple more steps before halting once more. Then she noticed it. On the ground before her were two gravestones sitting right next to one another, shadowed by a towering oak tree. They were each a dark grey, cracked and worn from age. The one on the left was engraved with a skull, and the other a wilting rose. Dark remained silent as he stood to her side, allowing the girl to take in what she was seeing. The names carved into the stone read ‘Unus’ and ‘Annus’. She would’ve said the names sounded odd, but she felt it was wrong to speak ill of the dead. Though, something about the names did pique her interest. She wasn’t exactly versed in Latin, but she had picked up a few phrases and such from the people she grew up around. Together ‘Unus Annus’ stood for ‘one year’. That was beyond strange. Who were these people? And what did this have to do with her memories? Somehow, Dark appeared to sense her confusion. 

“Unus and Annus were close family. While Unus was not blood, we still treated him as such. At first, Annus seemed to be a brash and cold, calculated man, while Unus was more relaxed. However, over time, while both were still incredibly intelligent, their quick wit and shared humor made them part of the family before we could so much as blink. They were nearly an anomaly to us.” That was saying quite a lot, seeing as the characters who walked through the mansion doors were all strange and unique in their own, confusing way. “They each had a clock which followed them around. From the second they stepped through our doors, we were informed that they each only had a year to live. At first several of the other egos, reasonably, didn’t believe them. I felt it was only right to give them the benefit of the doubt, so I offered my help. They are the flashes you see in your memory. Unus was always dressed in a black suit, and Annus in white. You were only two years old when they first showed up on our doorstep. We had yet to move out of the mansion, so you always had someone to take care of you if we were busy. And, well, they were always up for taking care of you. Lilith, you loved them so much. Annus was virtually a brother to me. I still find it astounding how they were able to form such close connections in such little time. Then again, neither had very much to lose.” It wasn’t like Dark to be vulnerable or show such strong emotions, so Lilith stood to the side in silence, taking in his every word. She still bowed her head respectfully, eyes wandering over the leaves and vines trailing the ground around the twin graves. It looked as though they hadn’t been visited in quite some time. Almost like a memory too painful to recover, one that you bury deep within yourself, locking it away only for it to strike you when you least expect it. “You-You were three when they died. At least they got to see your birthday.” He looked up to the rolling clouds and angry sky. “You smiled so wide. You, your two favorite uncles, and half of the cake smeared down your front.” And for just a moment, the stone faced man allowed his resolve to crumble. He allowed a bittersweet smile to graze his face as his eyes were trained on the grey sky over his head, obstructed slightly by the trees around them. She pretended not to notice as a single tear rolled down his cheek. There are some things that not even the great Darkiplier could control. “I tried to stop it, I really did. We all did. You think that you have forever left with someone, until you don’t. We would keep counting down the days. It was almost as if we all acted like we had more time left than we really did. It was only once we got to seven days that things really set in. Annus had accepted his fate from day one, but by twelve both had accepted that there was no denying the inevitable.”

_ They all sat around the living room, passing around tales. Lilith was already tucked away for the night and with four days left, a bottle of brandy seemed to be in session. While Annus didn’t drink, it didn’t stop him or Unus from enjoying themselves. They didn’t have many stories to tell that the others hadn’t already known seeing as they had spent their whole lives around these people. Annus raised his glass. “Here’s to tomorrow...at least, a few more tomorrows.” The others, Host, Dark, Wilford, and Unus, raised their glasses to the promise of tomorrow. _

_ On the last night, Dark stayed up late talking with the two of them. They discussed anything and everything until finally Annus suggested they go to bed. Dark understood what he meant, that it was finally time he let go. So, with a heavy sigh he stood, both Unus and Annus standing before him. Despite not being one for physical affection, he embraced them both, knowing it would be for the last time. And with their final goodnight, there was a sense of finality in the air.  _

_ The next morning each ego dreaded going into either of their rooms, knowing the sight they would be met with. Wilford was the first to have the guts. Dark came second, walking into Annus’ room to see him laying on his back, eyes peaceful. If it weren’t for the sad truth that they all knew, one might’ve simply assumed he was still sleeping. If only that were the truth. The best he could think was at least they both passed in their sleep. Their bodies were quickly moved that morning into the two coffins which had already been set aside by the men. Each coffin was black on one side and white on the other. With help from the other members of the house, they were able to transport both to the burial spot. Funnily enough, it was one of Unus’ favorite places to just sit and listen to the wind rustle the leaves high up in the trees. At least he could enjoy it forever. _

Thunder could be heard, softly shaking the sky above as the two stood in silence. Every thought and feeling suspended in the air between them. Without a word, Lilith walked over to Dark, pulling him into a hug. One which they both knew they needed. Maybe Dark more so than herself. He held her to his chest for a moment more, one hand on the back of her head and the other protectively wrapped around her shoulders. She pulled away, walking back over to the two headstones and hearing Dark follow her. Gently, she knelt down, brushing away the leaves from the graves. Even though the graves were standing, she felt the need to still clean them up slightly. “Maybe we could bring them flowers. I think they would be lovely.” She felt Dark place a hand on her shoulder.

“I think that would be nice.” With that, the two slowly walked out of the trees and back toward the house, memories settling warmly in their chests.


	10. Unique (The Host)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't have the patience to space out pre-written chapters lol

“The Host was taking a leisurely walk through the forest after having spent most of the day invested in his writings.” In reality, The Host felt he needed to take a break and clear his head. Lately he couldn’t help but think that he wasn’t of as much use as he once was. Changing his bandages took time out of his day and cleaning blood out of a leather chair took time. Being blind proved to be extremely difficult and frustrating, even if he could technically ‘see’. “The gravel beneath the Host’s feet crunched softly as wind blew through the trees. Out here all was calm and still. It was The Host’s favorite place to be.” Alone with his thoughts, The Host froze at the sound of rustling. Narrating quietly to ‘see’, he hesitantly approached a nearby bush where the noise seemed to be coming from. Slowly, a small calico cat emerged from under the brush. It appeared skittish and quickly Host let his guard down. A cat wouldn’t be of any threat to him. Unwilling to leave the small animal alone, he knelt down slowly, coaxing it toward him. That was when he saw it. The cat slowly walked toward him on three legs. It was missing its front right leg, though it seemed to compensate quite well. The Host gently ran his hand through the cat’s fur, making sure to not startle it. “The Host slowly strokes the cat’s soft fur, noticing it has no collar.” The cat rubbed up against him, purring softly as he continued softly scratching its back. “The Host continued his ministrations, noticing that the cat seemed to take a liking to him. Perhaps he should name the cat.” Taking in the cat’s appearance, Host paused for a moment before coming upon the perfect name. “The Host decides to name the cat Dochas. The Host hopes that the cat approves, not that a feline could truly understand the human concept of names.” Dochas meowed softly, seemingly happy with the name. Standing up once more, The Host continued on his walk, hoping the cat might follow him. Perhaps he’d made a friend.

A few minutes later, he came upon the small bench he had created out there. Sometimes he simply enjoyed listening to the sounds around him. “The Host rested on the bench, listening to the wind rustle the trees, when Dochas hopped up onto the bench next to him.” The two sat in silence for a moment, Dochas slowly making his way into Host’s lap. Almost on reflex, he began stroking the cat’s fur, finding it to be relaxing. After a moment, Host began to speak. “The Host sometimes feels as if he is of no use to the inhabitants of the mansion. Being blind has proved to be quite detrimental for The Host. Though he tries his best to get through it, The Host cannot undo the mistakes The Author has made.” The Host sighed, ‘looking’ down at Dochas who was purring softly in his lap, seemingly content. “The Host understands that Dochas has no understanding of the words The Host says, however speaking to Dochas is very calming. The feline does not talk over The Host or try to change him. Dochas just listens. For that, The Host is thankful.” The feline mewled softly, seeming to understand. “Dochas and The Host share similarities. They are not so different. Both coping with their differences in the best way they can.” Dochas rubbed his head against The Host’s stomach, purring. He cracked a rare smile, continuing to pet the cat’s head softly. “Perhaps The Host doesn’t mind having a friend.”

The two walked home together, Dochas walking right by The Host’s side. Slowly, the two strode up to the manor right as it began to sprinkle. The cat began to shake water from its fur, The Host noticing the change in weather. “Would Dochas like The Host to carry him?” Dochas looked up at him, meowing softly in response. The Host shook his head, wondering why he was talking to a cat. Though somehow he couldn’t help but feel like Dochas understood. Slowly, The Host knelt down, picking up the ball of fur and cradling him close to his chest. Once Dochas was comfortable The Host stepped up onto the front porch, Knocking gently on the front door. 

RJ was the one to open the door, eyes lighting up upon noticing the ball of fluff in The Host’s arms. CJ walked up behind him, curious as to who was at the door. Pulling up his camera he let out an audible gasp at the sight of the small feline. “What’s her name?” RJ was practically spilling over with questions as The Host stepped through the door. “Where did she come from? How old is she? Have you had her for a while? Why didn’t you tell anyone you had a cat?” The Host slowly lifted a hand, mumbling under his breath as RJ’s ramblings were quickly cut off, no sound leaving his mouth. The Host made his way into the kitchen where Bim, King, and Google currently resided. Silently (aside from The Host’s quiet mumbling) he grabbed a small bowl, filling it with water and setting it down on the counter before setting Dochas down in front of it. Only then did Bim look up from his cookbook, setting down the bowl in his hands to take in the sight before him. The Host gently stroked a small cat who was drinking from the water bowl in front of him. The others looked up as well upon The Host entering the room, watching as he stood in silence.

“Who’s that?” Bim was the first to speak. He approached slowly.

“He's a cat that found The Host while he was out on a walk.” The Host replied calmly ‘looking’ back down at the cat who was contentedly licking his paws. King spoke up then.

“What’s his name? Tripod?” He laughed lightly, referring to the cat’s missing limb.

The Host turned to face him, deadpanning. “Of course not. That name is juvenile. He has an entirely logical name. The cat’s name is Dochas.” King nodded sheepishly and, though nobody was watching, if someone squinted they might have seen a small smile on Google’s face at the reply. Dochas meowed then, rubbing his head against The Host’s arm, looking to be pet once again. Gently, The Host scratched his head, Bim walking up to the two. Slowly, Bim reached out a hand for Dochas to sniff. The cat then pushed his head into Bim’s hand, said man’s eyes lighting up. Bim began to enthusiastically stroke Dochas’ soft fur, the cat purring loudly.

The Host picked up Dochas, making his way toward the library. He froze however, when the cat shifted uncomfortably in his hold. “If Dochas wishes to move, he may. The Host will not leave him behind.” The Host felt small claws up his trench coat, followed by a weight on his shoulder. His face held a small smile as he continued toward the library. The two were only stopped a couple of times by curious egos (Wilford especially freaked out at the thought of another fluff ball in the manor). 

Once The Host had settled into his desk chair Dochas hopped from his shoulder, landing gracefully on the desk. “Dochas will need a bed among other amenities. That is, if he doesn’t mind staying with The Host.” Dochas stared up at The Host with large, glassy eyes. The only sound in the room was The Host’s mumbling as a small cat bed appeared next to The Host’s desk. Dochas immediately hopped down to it, seemingly interested. A moment later he hopped tentatively inside before curling up and laying down. “The Host is happy to have a companion. Perhaps he could get used to having company.” The Host ‘looked’ down at Dochas, seeing the cat fast asleep next to him. A smile graced his lips as he turned back to his work, content with having someone by his side.


	11. The Ghost of You (Darkstache)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mcr song is better,, just sayin
> 
> Also, kind of a continuation of You Said You'd Grow Old With Me
> 
> This took me way longer to write than it should've

The dark haired man slowly sat up, back popping as he stretched. Glancing to his side it was empty as always and Dark felt a pang in his heart. He knew deep down that it was going to be one of those days. Closing his eyes, Dark breathed in deeply. He could almost smell Wilford’s cologne in the air. Standing, he walked over to the dresser, rifling through it to find a dress shirt to wear. He ignored the bright yellows as he pulled out a crisp white dress shirt and a pair of slacks. Getting dressed, he left the top two buttons undone. Today was a casual day. The man opted against shoes, choosing to walk around in socks since he didn’t plan on going out today. 

The hallway was quiet and calm in the drowsiness of early morning. All was still and Dark could feel the atmosphere weighing down on his shoulders. Memories danced past him in a haze. Chasing his siblings down the stairs and watching Wilford try to slide down the banister. Walking toward the staircase, he glanced at the hanging portraits. A portrait of him, Damien, and Celine, followed by one of himself and Wilford. There was also a portrait of the bubbly man by himself. Dark remembered that there used to also be a portrait of Actor but it had since been taken down and lit on fire. The man he once knew to be a friend no longer had a place in  ~~ their ~~ his home. Descending the stairs, his hand brushed the polished wood banister and he smiled softly. 

The kitchen was cold and empty when he entered. No soft music, no warmth from the stove, no smell of breakfast. As he slowly sipped on his first cup of the day, even his hot coffee felt chilly. The air was silent and still, allowing Dark’s mind to swirl thoughts all around him, however none of them wavered the stone cold indifference in his face. Taking a deep breath, Dark took one last swig from his mug, setting it down on the table in front of him. He took a second to still his mind and pushed himself up from the table, determined to ignore the thoughts pestering his tired brain. 

Dark meandered slowly into the living room, unsure of what exactly he was to do with himself. He had no work to bury himself deep into to keep busy; he was weeks ahead on his reports. He had no intentions of going out today and doubted that any of his friends were willing to come over seeing as it was a Tuesday morning. Not that Dark really felt like seeing anyone anyway. Walking over to the old record player in the corner of the room, he pulled a vinyl from the shelf. Looking over it for a moment, he unsheathed the record before placing it onto the platter and gently setting down the needle. After a moment, music began to fill the air around him. It was peaceful and slow, and Dark felt himself begin to sway along to the melody. Eyes closed, he danced along. A simple ballroom step, light in his footwork. He began to glide around the room, allowing the notes to fill his senses. For being such a reserved man, he was allowed his own moment of reprieve. Of solace. His chance to relax and be alone. To let his guard down. Allow his stone-cold face to melt into something more relaxed, almost carefree. He thought of how he had tried to teach Wilford to ballroom dance. How he had never managed to get the steps quite right. Stepping on Dark’s feet and blushing as he would apologize with a quirked smile on his face. His hands were positioned in the air as he stepped, almost as if he were dancing with someone. One hand on their shoulder and the other on their waist. After all, it’s difficult to dance alone. And all of a sudden, he wasn’t so alone. He slowly opened his eyes as he felt a wait on his shoulders. The hairs on the back of Dark’s neck stood on end and his breath caught in his throat at the sight in front of him. Then he smiled. A true smile upon hearing a hearty laugh from soft lips, shadowed by a signature bristling pink mustache. The two simply continued their dance. Moving gracefully in time with one another, the pair didn’t slip up once. Since when had Wilford learned to dance? The other man seemed to sense his confusion, offering another warm smile and comforting laugh, and for the first time since he’d been gone, Dark laughed. Something full of love and contentment. In that moment Dark didn’t care if anything was real, all he knew was that he was dancing with Wil, and that’s all that mattered.


	12. Heather (Wilford)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was obsessed with this song for a hot minute

They say that high school is some of the most important years of your life. They should include that it only counts if you’re pretty and popular. Wilford found himself sighing, he was neither of those things. But that didn’t matter too much, because he had his best friend right by his side. Dark had always been his rock, since the very beginning. When things got tough he was always right there. So it came as no surprise when Wil found himself falling for the dark-dressed man. He never expressed his feelings openly, despite seeming like an open book. Dark remained reserved in all aspects of his being, never hinting at his feelings toward another person. Wilford was okay with that, it was just the two of them and that’s all that it needed to be. Until it wasn’t. That’s when Anti waltzed into the picture. Wil didn’t think he would mind having another person around sometimes, he was always open to making new friends, but Anti was different. He only seemed to have his eyes on one person. The one person that Wilford wanted all to himself: Dark. He was pushed to the side when Anti was around. Dark would always laugh at his jokes and sit a little too close for Wil’s liking. It was clear that Dark was falling for the green-haired man and it wasn’t hard to see why. Between piercing emerald eyes, a sharp jawline, a great sense of humor, and being one of the most looked up to people at school. Wilford was none of that. Soft-spoken, looks that were definitely lacking, and boring brown eyes. He was almost surprised that he hadn't already been left in the dust. 

Despite the new addition, Dark still made time for his best friend and for that he was thankful. 

Wilford tapped his pencil on the table as Dark attempted to explain the question to him. The two sat close as the pink man waited for his mom to arrive. Since it had gotten colder outside, Wil offered his friend a ride but the other man had declined, claiming he had other arrangements. Deciding to finish it at home, Wil put away his homework. Turning to the man next to him the two chatted calmly, enjoying the moment. He glanced down at his hands, pulling Dark’s large sweater sleeves over them to keep warm. Wil looked up to catch the other’s dark eyes on him. “You look cute in my sweater.” Dark smirked and the pink man looked down to keep him from seeing the blush on his face. The air was peaceful and Wilford soaked up every second he had with Dark. 

Suddenly the calm was disrupted by the voice of a certain other man. “I’m gonna leave soon so if you’re coming, come on.” Anti spoke to Dark, seeming to ignore Wilford sitting next to him. Finally he glanced over at him. “Oh yeah, you’re little friend can come too I guess.” Wil shook his head, not wanting to be in a car alone with him.

“No thanks, I’ve got a ride.” Dark looked torn between leaving with Anti or waiting with Wil until his ride got there. Finally, Dark stood, slinging his stachel over his shoulder and Wil did the same with his bag before the three headed outside with another one of Anti’s friends. Once they were standing out on the sidewalk the green-haired man began to head toward his car with his friend, Dark following suit. “Bye, Dark!” Wilford called after them before remembering the sweater he was wearing and jogging to catch up. Reaching for his friend’s arm, Dark slowed slightly. “I forgot to give you your sweater back.” He went to slip it off before feeling Dark’s hands on his own.

“Just give it back tomorrow, you need it more than I do.” Wil felt butterflies and simply nodded, watching as Dark shot him a small smile before turning and walking away. 

The pink man continued to smile like an idiot despite the cold nipping at his neck as he waited for his mother to arrive. Even once the warmth of the car had enveloped him, Wil still had a content look resting on his features. He fiddled with his sleeves as his mother pulled away, a slight smile on her face and a knowing look in her eyes.

_._._._._._._

The chill of the morning air brushed Wil’s back as he made his way into the building. His pink sweater was able to fend off most of the offending breeze, but the cold still managed to chill him to the bone. Once he had made it into the front lobby, Wilford paused, looking around for Dark who usually waited for him there. It seemed, however, that said man was nowhere to be found. Confused, he checked once more to make sure. Dark would’ve texted him if he had been running late, yet a glance at his phone showed no new notifications. The pink man shrugged it off, making his way into the cafeteria.

The loud, bustling room was full of life as Wil located his usual seat. Dark still remained unseen by his friend. Pulling out his phone, Wil began to scroll through his social media aimlessly, hoping his best friend would turn up soon.

After another fifteen minutes Dark was still a no-show without any explanation and Wil was beginning to get worried. He was always one to be punctual. Always on time and never without a reason. Wilford really hoped he had a good reason. Suddenly he was pulled from his thoughts by cacophonous laughter coming from a few tables away. He looked up only to be met with a sight that caused his heart to sink into his stomach. Anti was sitting with his head thrown back cackling while Dark sat next to him laughing gently at whatever joke had been told, surrounded by Anti’s friends. His chest felt tight as he watched the scene before him. Why couldn’t he make Dark laugh like that? A sound so soft and warm. Was he not good enough? On the best of days Dark would smile at him or huff out what seemed like almost a laugh. Yet here, Anti made it seem so effortless. Like he Dark right in the palm of his hand. Wilford watched on in silence as Dark lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair from Anti’s face. The action was so gentle and kind that the pink man could nearly feel his heart split in half. Wil slowly stood as he felt tears well up in his eyes. With a shaky hand he pulled Dark’s pitch black sweater from his bag. Making his way over to the table, he gripped the material tightly in his fist. The jovial conversation died down as he approached, Anti staring at him and Dark turning to see the cause of the disturbance. Wilford threw the sweater down on the table, fist still clenched at his side. “Here’s your stupid fucking sweater!” He huffed out angrily, quickly making his way back to his seat to grab his bag. On his way out of the cafeteria Wil turned back only for a moment to see Dark stand up, only to get stopped by Anti’s pale hand on his shoulder. He felt a single tear slide down his face as he watched Dark slowly sit back down. 

_._._._._._._

Dark was slightly worried when Wilford wasn’t responding to his texts. The pink man began to avoid him like the plague. Meanwhile, he and Anti had been hanging out a lot more and Dark was afraid that he was catching feelings for the other man. 

Wil, on the other hand, was feeling like hell. But as long as he didn’t have to see Dark with Anti he was fine. He had made it through the week without seeing either of them which wasn’t very hard considering the size of the school. But now it was the end of the day Friday and Wilford was waiting for his ride. That was until he got a text from his mom. The text read “I’m working late tonight so you’re going to have to get a ride with Dark. I don’t want you walking home in this weather.” He fully intended to do exactly that. There was no way in hell he was asking Dark for a ride. Looking up from his phone he searched for the man in question, only for his eyes to land on the pair a few feet away from him. He shouldn’t have cared about their interaction, Dark belonged to Anti, not him. But still, it hurt to see. Wil watched as the darker man pulled a charcoal sweater from his bag, slowly slipping it over Anti’s head. He continued to stare numbly as the shorter man snuggled into its warmth and a gentle smile spread across Dark’s face. He thought he could take it. Wilford thought that if he kept his distance he wouldn’t get hurt, but nothing could’ve prepared him for what happened next. Dark slipped an arm around Anti’s shoulder, pulling him into his side, and just a beat later the shorter man grabbed Dark’s shirt, pulling him into a slow, tender kiss. Wil thought he was going to die right there. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, but now he knew without a doubt that there was no place for him. Once the two had separated, Dark looked up only to lock eyes with the pink man. Wil watched as Dark tapped Anti’s shoulder, muttering something before walking away. Though once he realized where his friend was headed, he wanted nothing more than to disappear. He stared silently at the ground until another pair of shoes were in his view. He refused to raise his stare until he felt a soft but firm hand under his chin, forcing him to look Dark in the eyes.

“What’s wrong? You know you can talk to me.” Wilford shook his head and he almost saw hurt flash in the other’s eyes. “Please Wil, just speak to me.” Again, silence. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to say anything, he just didn’t want to cry. And he knew that if he opened his mouth all that would come out were sobs. In the quiet Dark finally took in his friend’s appearance. There were dark circles under his puffy, red eyes and he looked as though he hadn’t slept in days. He felt a pang in his heart at the sight. He placed a hand on Wil’s shoulder but the other man simply shrugged it off. “Wil just tell me what I did! I want my best friend back.” Those words ricocheted in Wilford’s brain. Those were the words that broke the dam. He didn’t want Dark seeing him a mess but as the tears streamed down his face he didn’t know what to do. He reached up a hand to stifle his sobs as his friend looked on, a mixture of concern and fear in his eyes. Then suddenly he was gone. Wilford ran as far and as fast as his legs would carry him along the snowy sidewalk. If Dark had made any attempt to catch up he had long since given up. He felt completely and utterly alone. Dark didn’t love him and never would. Anti had his whole heart and that was okay. As his feet crunched through the snow beneath him had convinced himself of this. Everything was okay.


	13. Sherry and Swing Dancing (Jameson Jackson)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had too much fun with the outfits

Everyone was seated in the living room due to Marvin having called a meeting. Unlike the Ipliers, they didn’t have an official meeting room. The others were talking among themselves until the magician cleared his throat, quieting the room. “I’ve gathered you all here because Dark is hosting a fancy dress party at the Iplier Manor tomorrow evening, likely per Wilford’s request, and we have all been cordially invited. Yes, even you, Anti.” Marvin stated, seeing the glitch roll his eyes. The others all seemed excited, except for Henrik who never really showed excitement. 

“Is there a specific theme?” Everyone’s ears perked up at the question and Marvin nodded, looking down at the paper in his hands.

“The party will be themed around the 1920s.” All of the Septiceyes nodded at that, all except for Jameson who seemed to freeze, lost in thought. He quickly snapped out of his thoughts, smiling at Marvin as if nothing had happened. “Well then, I guess that constitutes an adjourned meeting.” The egos then split off to do their own tasks and go on about their days. Marvin watched from the living room as Jamie slowly walked upstairs, presumably toward his room, with a blank expression on his face. Marvin took an attentive step forward before pausing, choosing not to pursue the other man.

Once Jameson had made it to his room, he sat down in front of his small vanity, staring at his reflection. Did he really want to go to the party? He knew it could be fun and might bring back good memories, but he knew it would also stir up some bad ones. As he stated at his reflection, Jameson still couldn't shake the memories creeping in the corners of his mind. Seeping in like a deep black ink. It had been over a year since he had been pulled into this world. He knew it shouldn't hurt, but it still did. He reached slowly over to the vanity drawer, pulling it open and taking out a small photograph. He held it in front of him, a bittersweet smile gracing his lips. There were some things he wished that he never had to leave behind.

**_._._._._._._**

Jameson looked at his reflection one last time, straightening his bowtie before he heard a knock on his bedroom door. "Would you mind helping Jackie with his tie? He always has trouble getting it right and you're the best at it." Chase spoke from the other side of the door as Jamie walked across his room to open it. He nodded, smoothing down the front of his shirt before stepping out. Chase smiled in response, closing the door behind him. "He should be in the living room still." 

Jameson descended the stairs, finding Jackie in front of the hall mirror tugging at his crooked black tie in frustration. Tapping his shoulder, Jamie gained the other man's attention, gesturing to allow him to fix it. He swiftly fixed a section which had gotten twisted and straightened out Jackie's tie, stepping back to get a good look at his outfit. Jameson had to admit, he did look pretty sharp. Jackie was wearing a white shirt, black slacks and a black bowtie. But on top of it all was the dark [ red](https://www.dhresource.com/260x260/f2/albu/g10/M00/98/D5/rBVaWVxEk7GARdnZAAEpIH_aG9s494.jpg) coat with the black lapel that he adorned, coattails ending near his knees. He was truly dressed to the nines. Jameson gave the hero two thumbs up and Jackie smiled as the others slowly filed into the common area. Marvin wore a [ blue velvet](https://www.dhresource.com/260x260/f2/albu/g5/M01/2B/B1/rBVaJFjYxayAWFutAACqTVd07u4844.jpg) collared coat with a black shirt, black vest and white bowtie. Schneep was adorned in a simple black suit jacket, white shirt and black tie. Chase was wearing a dark grey coat with a grey vest and black necktie. Anti was the last to arrive, dressed in all black with long coattails, that was, aside from the neon green necktie he was wearing. Jameson shuffled over to the mirror, ensuring that his tie was straight and checking his appearance one more time before they left. He found himself adorned with his usual dark blue vest and white shirt, only this time paired with a black formal coat. The others never saw him wear it, seeing as he kept it put away. Hell, they didn't even know he had it. "Alright everyone" Marvin addressed the group, drawing Jameson's attention toward the man. "Are we all ready to leave?" slowly everyone nodded, each ensuring they had what they needed. The party began at 8:00 and seeing as it was 7:57 most were eager to get on their way. "Okay then, Anti?" Said man rolled his eyes but before anyone could speak they had arrived at the doors of the Iplier Manor. And quite a manor, it was.

Henrik was the first to reach the door, knocking firmly before Anti got the chance to just barge in. Music and chatter could be heard from outside the house and the door was swiftly opened. "Good evening, Doctor. It is a pleasure to see you all." It was Dark who answered the door with a cool tone. He was wearing a black coat and tie with a blood red vest underneath. "Please, come in." He stepped aside, allowing the others to enter the manor where people could be seeing talking and dancing. Once everyone had stepped inside the door was closed behind them. Anti was the first to split off from the group, most likely in search of drinks. Jackie quickly found Bing, heading off to hang out with him and Yan for the night. Jameson stood awkwardly unsure of where to go and Marvin shot him a reassuring smile. Schneep had already walked away, looking for Dr.Iplier and Chase had found a seat in the corner where he could sip his drink and watch the crowd. That left Marvin and JJ. 

"How about we get some drinks?" Marvin suggested, awaiting the other man's input. He nodded, a content expression on his face, he could use with unwinding. Marvin smiled from under his mask, putting out an elbow to the other man, to which Jameson laughed silently, but held on anyway. The two made their way past the dance floor and toward the kitchen which had been transformed into an old fashioned parlor. Bim was manning the counter and Jameson couldn't help but notice the way Marvin smiled upon seeing him. 

"Good evening gentlemen, what can I get you?" The two leaned against the counter. 

"If you could, I'll have a Gin and Tonic. Jamie?" The other man thought for a moment before smiling and looking toward the other man, signing what he wanted. "And JJ will have a Sherry Sangaree." Bim nodded, quickly getting to work. Before they knew it, both boys had a drink in their hand. "Thanks" Marvin shot him a look of appreciation before the two were looking for a place to sit. They finally found a small empty table and began to sip their drinks and watch as people danced. Jameson found himself tapping his Oxford clad foot to  _ The Charleston _ as he was lost in thought. "Any reason why you chose that drink?" The magician asked, knowing that Jameson had come from the 1920's himself. The man swirled his glass as he thought of his answer.

[It was a... favorite of mine.] Jameson signed and Marvin simply nodded, turning back to face the dance floor once again. 

"I'm going to see if Bim has made any advancements on the project we were discussing. If you don't mind, I'll be back. The dapper ego simply waved him off and Marvin turned to search for the other ego. He sat there for several minutes simply watching the others dance and sipping on his Sherry. It wasn't until his glass was half full that he was interrupted by a voice. 

"Care for a dance?" Jameson turned to his left, only to see Wilford with an outstretched palm and patient smile. He was dressed in typical black and white formal wear, apart from his bowtie which was a soft shade of pink. The man hesitated for a moment before accepting the invitation. What good is it to go to a party and not dance? He vaguely considered how his mother would've jokingly scolded him for not at least dancing at such an elegant party. Together they danced playfully to the end of  _ When The Red Robin Comes _ , Jamie finally beginning to loosen up a bit. His face held a content smile and Wilford's held one similar. They continued to dance and simply have fun as a couple more songs played, until a certain song came on. It was a slow song and despite not having known some of the songs that played, Jameson recognized it instantly.  _ What'll I Do _ . Wilford watched as Jameson's face slowly fell. Concerned, he placed a gentle hand on the other man's shoulder. The mute ego looked up before quickly walking away. Weaving through the crowd, the pink man was unable to keep up. 

Jameson leaned against the bathroom counter as he looked at his reflection, the song playing through his head over and over. His eyes scanned over his face, tears threatening to fall. And for a second, he could almost see her standing behind him in her favorite blue dress. Her hazel eyes perfectly catching the light and her smile soft enough to melt even the coldest of hearts. Jameson closed his eyes, shaking his head rapidly to clear his thoughts. And when he opened them again, she was gone. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the paper once more. It was a photograph of the two of them laughing. The only photograph they ever took. He hoped to see her laugh like that again, with the same sparkle in her eyes, crinkling at the corners, if not just one more time. It was then that he heard a knock on the door. "Jamie, can I come in?" The voice belonged to Wilford. He sighed, wiping tears from his face that he didn't notice had fallen. He pulled the door open slightly, allowing the outside noise in just long enough for Wilford to slip into the small bathroom. "What happened out there? Are you okay?" The pink man looked at him with concern covering his features. It wasn't until Wilford looked down, seeing the photograph clutched in Jamie's hand, that a look of realization washed over his face. "...Who was she?" He asked hesitantly, afraid to upset the man before him. Jameson took a deep breath, exhaling sharply before beginning to sign slowly.

[Her name was Marjorie Fletcher.] Wilford nodded, taking in the look of the woman in the picture. [Soon to be Marjorie Jackson.] The man's heart clenched slightly at that, thinking of the fact that Jameson had been pulled from his time and into the present. [She had the most gorgeous pair of hazel eyes and a smile that could light up a room. She always knew how to make you feel better, no matter the ailment.] The pink man allowed him to ramble on, smiling at the way his eyes would light up. That was how the two ended up sitting on Wilford's bed, sharing stories back and forth and talking late into the night.


	14. Heard You Crying (Chase Brody)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's really short and kind of sucks but I kept getting stuck writing it so this is what I ended up with. Hope you enjoy!

The night was silent and still. Darkness wrapped everything in a soft blanket of protection. Marvin stood in his room, slowly removing his rings as he prepared for bed. He had already changed into a loose t-shirt, opting against pants due to the warmth of the summer air. After finally removing his mask, the magician moved to lay down on his soft bed, closing his eyes. That was, until he heard a noise. It wasn’t exactly discernible but Marvin was still on alert.  _ It’s probably just an animal _ . He thought to himself, curling further into the sheets. However, the thought still lingered at the back of his mind and the magician quickly found himself straining to listen. After a moment the man stood, stepping toward his window. The moonlight shone softly through his parted curtains, creating an air of peace and calm in the dark. Placing a hand on the glass to steady himself, Marvin leaned forward slowly to look out his window. After looking around for a moment he almost stepped away when he saw movement, spotting a figure perched on the roof. Instantly he was on high alert. Still, he chose to approach quietly and assess the situation. He still hadn’t found the source of the noise. It had to have been coming from this creature. He quickly slipped on a jacket, a pair of shorts he’d found on the floor, and shoes before silently cracking the window. Thank god it didn’t creak. Marvin was quick in his actions as he crept out onto the roof, crouching down cautiously. He heard the noise once again as he leaned close to the house, but this time it was more distinct. Short intakes of breath, just to be forced out once more. Hiccuping and stifled noises. It sounded like… crying? Perplexed, Marvin crept closer, searching for the source of the sound. It was then that he spotted the figure once more. The person was sitting on the roof a few feet away from the magician, knees pulled to their chest. But wait...they couldn’t have possibly been trying to break in; the window behind them was open. Marvin watched silently as the curtain blew in the breeze of the night air. That was Chase’s room. That could only mean one thing.

“Chase?”

He watched as the person froze, looking up in alarm. Marvin stepped closer slowly, they were on the roof after all. “Chase, is that you?” As he grew near, he could make out his friend’s features in the pale moonlight.

“Just leave me alone Marvin.” Another sniffle. The magician frowned at that. 

“Come on, I just want to talk. What’s up?” He sat down next to Chase, making sure not to sit too close. 

“I told you to go. I don’t want to talk about it.” Chase pulled his knees closer to his chest, looking away from the other man.

“Okay then, we don’t have to talk.” Marvin replied easily, looking up to the stars. They didn’t have to talk, but that didn’t mean he was planning on leaving any time soon. Everything was silent for a moment, aside from occasional sniffling. There was almost a peaceful quiet between the two, as though time was standing still. The stars shone bright above their heads, basking in a moment that was quiet and calm. 

“...She got custody.” Chase’s voice was soft and scratchy, still sounding like he was on the verge of tears. Despite this, Marvin knew exactly what he was talking about. “I mean, who would want to leave two kids in the hands of a jobless alcoholic? I don’t deserve to be their father.” Despite the dim light, Marvin could see him look down dejectedly.

“Come on now, don’t say that. You’re an amazing father. Besides, everyone needs a bit of help every now and then.” Hesitantly, he placed a hand on Chase’s back, rubbing it in soothing circles. He could tell that Chase didn’t believe him, but he would in time. They would just have to show him.


End file.
